[Interview to be found in the summer magazine, in kiosks or by subscription.] After coordinating the collective work Pédés, published in 2023, Florent Manelli joined the team of têtu· Connect. He has not let go of the pen. In Beyond the Closet (Les Liens qui libèrent), he dissects the coming out: liberation or the Caudine Forks?
In the LGBT+ community, coming out is generally presented as a mandatory passage toward freedom. Has that not changed?
The whole purpose of my book is to tell how much coming out reflects our social dysfunctions. Society always expects that a LGBT person will come out, as a mandatory stage of any queer life. This can be explained easily by the fact that heterosexuality remains the implicit norm. But there is also the expectation that this coming out be done in a certain way, in accordance with representations conveyed in the media or the entertainment industry. From the introduction of my book, I recount my family coming out, which I did in a very solemn manner in my parents’ kitchen, because that is how I imagined my own coming out. After publication, several people came to tell me: “Me too, I did my coming out in my kitchen with my parents!” Even in its form, there is something that tends to standardize the coming out and the queer experiences crystallized around this passage.
Isn’t coming out not the entry door toward pride?
American historian George Chauncey showed that coming out was above all the entry into a community, the meeting with the gay group. Once I am out, I no longer fear being discovered if I push the door of a community space, whether it’s a sexual health center or a festive space. Coming out of the closet thus first connects to the community. It also enables collective visibility and the transmission of the group’s experience, its shared memory. Gradually, coming out has transformed into something more individual, a kind of personal story to tell in videos for social networks. When we individualize the coming out to this extent, we weaken the community ties. In this mutation, it seems to me that we lose what binds us in a political project.
Is coming out still an act of resistance?
Coming out always carries a cry of freedom, a desire to express what one is at the deepest level. But its political resonance is expressed to very different degrees depending on the contexts. Doing it in France or in Senegal obviously does not entail the same risks. And not all coming outs have the same effect, in terms of collective narrative. It is obvious that someone who benefits from certain privileges does not shake the system as someone who accumulates belonging to several minorities.
Number of queer youths today who forego the solemn announcement. Are we witnessing the extinction of coming out?
Part of the LGBT+ population no longer necessarily feels the need to come out, at least not in the way it was imagined since the 1980s. In the meantime, coming out has almost become a pop object. Some representations continue to depict it according to the old codes, solemn and emotional. This is the case, for example, in the series Heartstopper, when Nick first speaks of his bisexuality to his mother. At the same time, we see emerging other ways of doing it, more fluid and less dramatic. I think we are in an in-between. The symbol evolves, and it will continue to do so.
Your book recalls that coming out does not automatically erase shame. Have we sold too much the idea of a magic wand?
The effects of the closet operate more or less intensely and can haunt us even once we are out in all spaces of our lives. There are consequences on mental health, on physical health, on minority stress… Shame often continues for a long time and can be reactivated very quickly, for example by an insult. Before embracing our pride, we have nonetheless been imbued with this culture of homophobia. To simplify coming out as a passage with a before and after has something of fallacy. I know no one who, in the long term, regrets having come out. But coming out does not act like a magic potion that would wipe away instantly everything we have gone through beforehand.
Do you place a lot of importance on the “coming in.” Isn’t the main issue living as best as possible this inner journey?
Before opening up to others, one opens up to oneself. This moment is extremely important. It is the time when you struggle, when you try to understand, when you wrestle with yourself before you can tell yourself, deep inside: “Yes, I am gay.” All this process before revealing yourself to others is precious. We need reassurance, messages that tell us that by owning what we are, we are not doomed to loneliness or a life of misery. These representations are very important, because they send messages to children, to teenagers, but also to adults. In the 1990s, when I grew up, there were very few positive representations I could identify with. We have progressed a lot on this front. The challenge today is also to ensure that self-discovery is softer, better supported, with more resources available, more representations and spaces where people can recognize themselves.
